Ethan stared at the phone like it might bite him.
The name was already there.
Daniel Reeve.
Not masked.
Not hidden.
Not pretending to be anything else.
Just the truth sitting quietly on a screen.
His thumb hovered.
This wasn't fear.
Fear had already passed.
This was something heavier.
Because once he made this call, there would be no more almosts.
No more guessing.
No more pretending he didn't know why the gorilla mask always arrived before danger did.
He pressed call.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Then—
"Ethan."
Daniel's voice came through calm, steady, like he'd been waiting.
No surprise.
No hesitation.
"You didn't even let it ring," Ethan said.
"I know when you're about to do something stupid," Daniel replied mildly. "Calling me counts."
Ethan huffed a short laugh. "Figures."
Silence settled between them—not awkward, not empty. Heavy. Loaded.
"You found the orphanage," Daniel said.
It wasn't a question.
Ethan closed his eyes briefly. "So you really do know everything."
"Enough," Daniel replied. "And more than you wanted me to."
Ethan leaned back against the wall. His heartbeat was loud in his ears.
"I want to meet."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"Face to face?" Daniel asked.
"Yes."
"You already know who I am."
"I know what you are," Ethan corrected. "Not why."
Daniel exhaled slowly on the other end. "Some truths don't improve lives."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Then stop pretending you're protecting mine."
That did it.
Daniel went quiet.
When he spoke again, his voice was lower. Careful.
"Where?"
Ethan blinked. "You're agreeing?"
"I was never going to refuse," Daniel said. "I just hoped you'd wait longer."
"Well," Ethan replied, pushing himself upright, "hope expired."
Another small exhale. Almost amused.
"You always were impatient," Daniel murmured.
"That's funny," Ethan said. "I don't remember you being around long enough to notice."
Daniel didn't take the bait.
"Tomorrow," he said instead. "There's a place by the river. Old warehouse district. No cameras. No audience."
"Of course you'd pick somewhere dramatic," Ethan muttered.
Daniel chuckled softly. "You'll fit right in."
Ethan hesitated for half a second, then said the words that had been burning in his chest since the mask fell.
"You're not meeting me as the gorilla mask."
"No," Daniel replied. "I'll be there as myself."
"Good," Ethan said. "Because I'm done talking to ghosts."
The line went quiet again.
Then Daniel spoke, voice steady but unmistakably sincere.
"Ethan… once we do this, there's no undoing it."
Ethan didn't hesitate this time.
"Good," he said again. "I'm tired of being protected like I don't deserve the truth."
A beat.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Daniel said.
The call ended.
Ethan stared at the phone long after the screen went dark.
For the first time, he wasn't being watched from the shadows.
He had summoned the shadow himself.
And whatever waited by that river tomorrow—
Brother or stranger, protector or problem—
Ethan was finally ready to look it in the face.
The knock came when Ethan was halfway through convincing himself not to pace.
Three sharp taps.
He didn't need to ask who it was.
"Door's open," he called.
Clara stepped in like she owned the place, eyes already scanning him from head to toe.
"You look like someone who just poked a sleeping lion," she said. "Did you poke a sleeping lion?"
Ethan smirked faintly. "Worse."
She shut the door behind her and crossed her arms. "That answer alone tells me I was right to come."
He leaned back against the counter. "You stalking me now?"
"Please," she scoffed. "If I were stalking you, you wouldn't notice. Try again."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Clara studied him—really studied him. The tension sat on his shoulders like weight.
"You talked to him," she said finally.
Ethan didn't deny it. "Yeah."
Her expression sharpened. "And?"
"I'm meeting him."
That made her freeze.
"…You're what?"
"Tomorrow," Ethan added casually. "By the river."
Clara stared at him like he'd just announced he was skydiving without a parachute.
"You're meeting the man who's been stalking you in a mask, intercepting threats, manipulating situations—" She jabbed a finger toward him. "—and you're telling me this after you've already decided?"
"I wanted to tell you," Ethan said calmly.
"That's not the same thing!"
She started pacing. "Okay. Fine. Then I'm coming with you."
Ethan raised a brow. "No."
"Oh, I'm absolutely coming," she snapped. "Because if he does anything stupid, I will smash him in the face."
Ethan laughed. Actually laughed.
"That's your plan?" he asked. "Assault?"
"Self-defense," she corrected. "Preemptive."
He shook his head. "Relax. He's not going to hurt me."
"And how exactly are you so sure?" she demanded.
Ethan hesitated.
Then said it.
"Because he's my brother."
The room went dead silent.
Clara stopped pacing.
Her mouth opened—
Then closed.
"…Excuse me?"
Ethan met her eyes. "Dawson Daniel Reeve is my blood brother."
Her face drained of color. "No. No, that's not—"
"I know," he said softly. "That was my first reaction too."
She stared at him like the walls had shifted.
"Say that again," she whispered.
"He's my brother."
Clara dropped onto the couch without meaning to. "You're telling me the masked lunatic who's been running covert operations around your life is family?"
"Apparently," Ethan said. "The kind you don't remember because someone decided you weren't supposed to."
Her voice was faint. "How… how do you know?"
Ethan leaned against the table, arms folding slowly.
"The orphanage," he said. "Records that weren't supposed to exist. A man who recognized me when he shouldn't have. Two boys. Same blood. Different instructions."
Clara swallowed. "And Dawson?"
"He remembered everything."
Her eyes lifted to his. "And you didn't."
"No."
She exhaled shakily. "That's… that's insane."
Ethan nodded. "Tell me about it."
Silence stretched between them again, heavier than before.
"So," Clara said finally, forcing a breath, "you're walking into a meeting with your long-lost brother who's been secretly protecting you for years."
"Yep."
"And you don't want backup."
He smiled faintly. "Not this time."
She stood abruptly. "I still don't like it."
"I know."
"I still want to punch him."
"Fair."
"But…" She hesitated, then sighed. "If he really is your brother… then this isn't about danger."
Ethan looked at her. "It's about truth."
She nodded slowly. "Yeah."
He grabbed his jacket.
Clara watched him move, then said quietly, "You're not coming back the same."
Ethan paused at the door. "I already didn't."
She gave a small, crooked smile. "Then go."
He opened the door.
"Clara?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. For being the kind of friend who threatens violence out of loyalty."
She snorted. "Anytime."
Ethan stepped out into the fading light.
Somewhere by the river, Dawson Daniel Reeve was waiting.
Not as a mask.
Not as a shadow.
But as the brother Ethan had never known he'd lost.
And whatever waited between them…
There would be no more hiding.